The Physician's Daughter
by creativeminds1896
Summary: "But the winter of my seventeenth year was to bring many revelations, ones that people now believe as legend. But that's just what I am now, as is my story; a legend." Marsella was the daughter of Gaius, Camelot's court physician, when her destiny was forever changed by a young man who managed to trip and tumble his way into her life. Eventual Merlin/OC. Spans all seasons. HIATUS.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

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The kingdom was, at last, silent. The freezing night air hung like icicles around the dark, forlorn castle. The moon was clearer than usual, and shooting stars were constant in the navy blue sky. The snow gleamed in the moonlight, shining as if it was simply the dust that had fallen from the stars flying across the night.

Yet despite the beautiful winter night, the mood in the dark castle was the complete reverse. Inside was a great but miserable king, shackled to the walls of his own dungeons. His army had fallen, his wife murdered in front of his very eyes, and his people burned alive. His son was in the cell next to his, young and naïve. He knew nothing of war and death. Someday he would understand, and he would rise as a wise ruler.

The king thought of his late wife, the brightness of her blue eyes seared into his eyelids. There was nothing to be done. He did not practice magic, or else he would find a way. But even then…would his lovely Lilliane be happy to be resurrected?

He shook his head and cradled the bundle in his arms more gently. The baby girl was asleep and had to stay that way. She would soon be safe, in a new kingdom, away from this horrible place they used to call home. She was his heir, no matter her age. If she was to be safe in another land, then she was his only hope of restoring his kingdom.

The king closed his eyes and held the girl close. Her auburn curls were soft and her little fingers wrapped around one of his own. A tear trickled down his cheek, but he did not care to wipe it away. This was not going to be an easy departure.

"Father," the boy whispered. "Father, it is Sir Bartholomew."

The king looked up to see a shadow standing before him. He saw the face in the moonlight streaming in from the grates above the man's head. It was his most loyal knight, Sir Bartholomew, dressed in all black with a sling on his torso. He was here for the baby.

The king choked on his words as he offered the child up to the knight. "Please get her there safely. I owe my life to you."

The knight tenderly placed the girl in the sling, her eyes fluttering lightly. She rolled over onto her side and sighed. The king put a hand to his mouth to keep from sobbing.

The little boy in the next cell scurried up to the bars and put a hand on the girl's head. "I'll miss you, sissy. I love you."

The king could bear this no more and buried his face in his hands. He knew his fate. Lilianne had seen it in the crystal many years ago.

He placed a hand on Sir Bartholomew's arm, looked up, and said, "Someday, you will be repaid. My son and I are greatly indebted to you. Now go, before the guards catch you."

The knight put his hand on top of his king's for the last time.

"It has been an honor serving you, my lord. Thank you," he whispered. "I will always remember you."

Then he turned to the boy. "Sire."

The boy nodded back, knowing the custom. But his father said nothing and removed his hand, then turned away to the back of his cell. This was to be his last hour, this he was sure of.

Sir Bartholomew made his way out of the dungeons, creeping quietly through the once lively streets of his home town. He found his way across the broken cobblestones and wrecked marketplace.

Once by the city walls, he clambered onto his black steed and rode off into the night. He was not noticed by the guards nor the animals of the forest. It was as if magic was protecting them.

For several days and nights, Bartholomew rode with the girl, feeding her when needed and changing her nappies when they were soiled. But he never grew weary.

On the fifth day, he saw the turrets of a shining castle. Camelot. They had succeeded in making the journey. But he needed to find her a place to grow up. He couldn't leave the baby with just anyone. The king had specifically said to leave her with people who made a difference in Camelot; somebody who could teach her the ways of manners and respect.

As he entered the town, the baby started to wake. She opened her sleep-filled eyes and blinked at the man holding her. Her purple eyes were full of life and adventure.

Sir Bartholomew couldn't help but smile as he rode through the lower town. The girl was making cooing noises and babbling on about who knows what. She laughed whenever the horse would jostle a little. She was trying to sit up most of the time, but her head was too heavy for her to do it on her own. She wanted to observe the world around her, which was intriguing for a child of such a young age.

The knight entered the palace courtyard, hoping to seek an audience with King Uther.

"Hello, there," said an older man, walking up the knight. His clothes were not as shabby or worn as some of the other citizens of Camelot and his bag rattled and clanked as if full of glass.

"Good afternoon," greeted Bartholomew, nodding once politely.

The baby girl made a loud squealing noise as the horse stopped completely. The older man looked puzzled at this until the knight was standing in front of him.

"Who are you?" he inquired suspiciously.

"My name is Bartholomew," the knight explained. "I am here for this girl to seek refuge in this kingdom. She is but an orphan in need of a loving family."

The old man looked into the sling to see the purple-eyed girl staring right back at him. He chuckled and tickled the baby's stomach, the baby giggling in response.

"I am Gaius," declared the old man. "I am the court physician here in Camelot."

Sir Bartholomew could tell that Gaius was a man of his word and took a deep breath. "Would you be willing to take her in, sir?"

Gaius's eyebrows rose up past his hairline. "Me? I'm but an old man who's just lost the love of his life. I've never raised a child before."

But as soon as the words left his mouth, Gaius regretted them. He'd always wanted a child to call his own.

"Tis a shame," Sir Bartholomew said sadly. "Her father and mother died wanting her to make a difference in this world. They knew she would want to accomplish great feats."

Gaius again, hesitated. Was this really the best choice for him? He was only in his early fifties. How hard would it be, really? He could always use an apprentice and some company.

"I will take the child as my own kin, sir," the physician concluded. "I would be happy to raise her as my daughter."

Sir Bartholomew handed the girl over, along with clothes and blankets.

"You are doing a great honor, sir," he told the older man with a grin. He turned back to his horse and jumped on with ease. To Gaius, it was clear he was a knight of sorts or else just a talented rider.

Gaius, shocked at what he had just done, shook his head and pulled himself back to reality. "Wait, what is the girl's name?"

The knight pulled on his cloak hood and, just before he rode off back to his own kingdom, said, "Marsella."

And with that, Gaius walked back to his own quarters, wondering how to start life with the baby and how to tell King Uther that he would need some time off during the day.

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**Hi everyone! Thanks so much for reading the prologue of my first Merlin fanfic. I hope you enjoyed it. If you guys like the story so far, please review, follow, and favorite! I don't want to continue if nobody wants to read more. :)**


	2. Merlin

Chapter 1: Merlin

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_Seventeen years later…_

* * *

Late summer of my seventeenth year had fallen slowly on the Darkling Forest outside of Camelot's sturdy walls. The leaves were only just beginning to turn, their green fading into the most beautiful orange and red hues. The sky was as blue as a robin's egg and the apple trees lent to a crisp, sweet scent that drifted through Camelot with the breeze.

I spent as much time as I could outside in the forest, away from the workbench my father was so devoted to. But it was his job as physician to King Uther to care for those in the court and those in the town. I had learnt the ways of healing my whole life, and I'd grown to love the satisfaction you get from helping someone who was once miserably ill or wounded. I'd grown accustomed to assisting my father with his work. Sometimes, he'd just send me if it was a minor issue.

Part of my duties as an apprentice was to gather herbs we used in potions and droughts in the woods. I usually took my time, as I would bring my bow and arrows with me. Sometimes I'd take down a rabbit, and, if I was lucky, a deer.

I was in a clearing just a ten minute walk from the Southern gate, gathering herbs. I had my bow on the ground next to me and my sheath of arrows strapped to my back. It was a peaceful late afternoon. There were birds chirping and the air was still warm. Little did I know, someone was about to show up; someone that would forever change my life and my destiny.

I heard rustling in the bushes to my left and a branch cracking. I immediately took up my bow and strung an arrow. It was common to see bandits in the woods every so often, so I assumed it was a bandit.

Suddenly, a person burst out from the bushes, tripping on my knees, and landing flat on their face with their pack and things scattered everywhere. It was just a clumsy boy.

I was about to tell him off when I heard shouting echoing from where he had just come from. I pushed his legs off my lap and stood tall, my arrow ready.

The two men came sprinting out of the bushes and stopped when they saw me. They guffawed and raised their axes.

"Oh, look, a little fairy," the taller one chuckled. "What are you going to do, shoot us?"

I scowled. "Well I wouldn't have an arrow strung and ready if I wasn't then, would I?"

"You're a lady," said the other. "Ladies don't use weapons."

"Then maybe I'm not a lady after all," I replied, annoyed with their banter. "Who are you and what business do you have with this boy?" I nodded slightly to the boy standing behind me.

"He stole our food, he did," grumped the taller one.

"And a few of our blankets," complained the other.

"I did not!" the boy protested, stepping forwards. He turned towards me and I saw his face for the first time. He had a skinny face, as if he hadn't been particularly well fed. His clothes weren't terribly ratty, but they weren't well-kept. He was nothing but a farm boy. But there was a look of truth in his eyes that made me believe him. "They're lying!"

One of the men took a step forward, brandishing his weapon threateningly.

"Listen here, you little—"

But the taller one never finished his sentence. I released my arrow, burying it in his chest. The other growled and I shot him, too, before he could do any damage to the boy or I.

I sighed and felt somewhat horrid, lowering my bow, then turned to the boy. His mouth was agape.

"You just killed them," he said, shocked.

"They would have killed us if I had given them the chance," I said. "And a thank you would suffice. I did just save your life."

The boy, still in awe and astonishment, finally said, "Uh, yes, th-thank you."

_Who is this dollop-head? _I thought.

"You're not from around here, are you?" I ask, eyeing him carefully.

I go over and begin stuffing his possessions back into his bags. The faster he leaves me alone, the better. I don't trust him at all.

"No, I'm from Ealdor. It's a pretty small village in another kingdom," he answered. "Are you from Camelot?"

He came over and began helping me gather his own things.

I nodded. "Yes."

"What do you do there?"

"I'm an apprentice."

"Well, I'm looking for someone. Maybe you can lead me there?"

I shook my head as I grabbed my bag of herbs and pulled the arrows out of the corpses. "Sorry, can't. I've got to go inform the prince of the bandits that I've just taken down."

The boy's eyebrows rose, again surprised. He smirked slightly. "You know the prince?"

I couldn't help but frown. "Why is that such a shock to you?"

"It's just that you look—"

"Like a peasant?"

"Well, yeah."

"Probably because I am."

"Then how do you know the prince?" he wondered.

"Unfortunately, we grew up together. I've known him for as long as I can remember," I said.

"Unfortunately? Why unfortunately?" the boy repeated.

"You don't want to know," I said, stopping him from asking any more questions. "Well, good luck finding the person you're looking for."

I turn, glad to be leaving this irritating boy behind. He was too curious about me. I'm not comfortable talking about myself. I'd rather keep quiet about what I like to do and who I know well.

"I'll walk with you," said the boy, catching up with me. "What's your name?"

"Mars," I huffed.

I think he expected me to ask what his was, but I don't. "Mars? Like the Roman god of war?"

"No, my full name is Marsella, but everyone calls me Mars. It's easier," I explain. "But if you want to think of it like the Roman god, go right ahead. I've no problem with that."

"I'm Merlin," he said, grinning. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He held out his hand and I shook it briefly, managing a half smile. "You as well."

But honestly, I don't know how pleasurable it was at the moment. He seemed too curious, too trusting.

Even to this day, I'm still not a trusting person. Somebody must prove that they are worthy of my trust before I rely on them for anything, and this Merlin character certainly did not have my trust, especially after be chased by those bandits.

"What is Camelot like?" he asked, a bit more serious than before.

"Camelot…" I said thoughtfully, attempting to answer his question honestly. "Camelot is certainly an interesting place."

"How so?"

"It's not an extremely vast city, but it's certainly one of the strongest and most prosperous. It's quaint, I guess. There are some very nice parts of town and even the most poor aren't terribly poor. I mean, they are, but not as poor as I've seen before. There have been people that have passed through that make the rest of the poor here look like royalty."

I thought of all the knights I'd seen ride through and the merchants that had journeyed from far off lands. But then I thought of the laws and regulations that King Uther had established and I sighed once more.

"Is something wrong?" Merlin wondered, concerned. "Am I bothering you?"

"No, nothing's wrong," I said. "But, to be quite frank, you are bothering me just a little. I have a tendency to speak my mind and be honest. Some people don't like me for it, but I guess that's what happens when tell them the truth. They don't want to hear certain things, you know? It scares them, sometimes even angers them. But it's something that they need to hear…most of the time."

"I don't have a problem with that," Merlin replied. "Honesty is important."

"Don't get me wrong, though," I said quickly, "I have secrets just as much as anyone else."

"Everyone has secrets," Merlin agreed, as if he understood exactly what I meant. "It's natural."

I nodded. This Merlin wasn't so horrid. He seemed to have a good head on his shoulders and a kind heart.

I observed as he picked up a twig and twirled it in his hands as we walked.

We walked along through the woods, chatting about Merlin's old hometown.

"You mentioned that you were from Ealdor," I brought up. "What is Ealdor like?"

Merlin chuckled a bit. "It's not nearly as exciting as Camelot. Ealdor is much smaller with much less citizens and riches. Sometimes we barely have enough food to get through the winter."

"Do you have any family back in Ealdor?"

"Just my mother."

"Where's your father?"

"He left before I was born. I don't think he even knows I exist. He's probably dead now for all I know," he said, picking at the twig he still had in his hand.

I squinted at Merlin, a few inches taller than me, the setting sun right behind his head. "How come you left?"

"Mum thought I needed a better life outside of Ealdor, one with opportunities," Merlin replied slowly. "I miss her, though."

He looked back down at me inquisitorially. "What about you? Do you have any family?"

"Just me and my father at home," I said quickly.

"And do you know where your mother is?" he asked.

I shook my head, staring straight ahead at Camelot's gate which was getting closer by the second. "I've no idea where or who she is. Father won't tell me anything except that she left when I was just a baby."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said sympathetically.

I shrugged. "I've stopped wondering about my mother a long time ago. It doesn't matter where or who she is. She's never been round to see me and isn't a part of my life."

As soon as we passed through the gates, I halted and turned to Merlin.

"It was good to meet you, Merlin," I said to the boy.

"Same to you," he replied. "And thanks for, you know, saving my life back there."

I couldn't help but smile. "All in a day's work. I sincerely wish you luck in finding the one you seek. Maybe I'll see you around Camelot. Which way are you headed?"

Merlin nodded towards the castle. "There."

I blinked. "Oh."

He looked pleased. "Are you headed there as well?"

"Unfortunately," I replied, scrunching my nose.

_I guess I'll have to endure his company a bit longer, _I thought. _Will he ever get out of my hair?_

"Great!" he exclaimed, immediately striding forwards, seemingly oblivious to my disgruntled reply. "Let's go."

I shook my head at the boy in wonder. He was very optimistic, wasn't he?

I followed behind Merlin, keeping his dark hair and rustic looking pack in front.

"Incredible place, isn't it?" he muttered to himself.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Tis just a market place, Merlin."

"Well, yes, but I've never seen one like it. I'm from the country, and out in the country, we don't have such luxuries," he replied, beaming.

We kept silent as we made our way towards the Pendragon Castle. I noticed many other villagers heading in the same direction and only one thought crossed my mind—a beheading was about to take place. Not a great first impression on Merlin.

As we started across the draw bridge, I fell into stride next to him, starting to feel anxious.

"Merlin, there's something you should know," I told him.

"What's that?" he said distractedly.

"Here in Camelot—"

But I was cut off completely by the horns on the balcony above us, making it impossible to hear anything I was saying.

I scurried after Merlin, trying not to let him get lost in the crowd. He needed to know what was going on.

We stopped in the middle of the square, surrounded by the other citizens of Camelot. Up on a platform were a basket and a block of wood, stained dark crimson. Soldiers guarded all access up to the platform, people pressed up close to the barriers on all sides.

Then a drum began to play an oh-so familiar rhythm. The death march had begun.

I watched as the convicted sorcerer was brought up to the platform by two more soldiers. King Uther stood above on the balcony, looking regal as ever.

Merlin seemed confused by it all.

"Let this serve as a lesson to you all," Uther's voice boomed. "This man, Thomas James Collins, is judged guilty of aspiring to use enchantments and magic. As presumed by the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death."

At this, I saw Merlin gulp. He was hiding something, I could tell. There was fear in his eyes. He gripped his knapsack tightly and stared up at the king in what seemed to be distress.

"I pride myself as a fair, just king," continued King Uther, "but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass."

The guards harshly forced Thomas to his knees, everyone leaning back, expecting what will come soon after.

I glanced up to see Morgana at her window, hardly able to witness such a killing. I could barely stomach it myself, but I'd seen wounds that were absolutely sickening, so I realized that it might not be as awful as that.

The executioner rounded to the other side of Thomas and raised his axe high above his head, lining up with the prisoner's neck.

I watched as Uther lowered his hand, giving the signal to carry out the deed. Then it happened.

I wrinkled my nose at the sight, and then turned away. That was much worse than the wounds, so much worse.

Merlin looks disgusted at it all. I wouldn't have blamed him if he had gone back to Ealdor. Camelot wasn't always a chipper, fine place to live.

"When I first came to this land," Uther spoke broadly, "this kingdom was mired by chaos, but with the people's help, magic was driven from the land. So I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured and Camelot free from the evil of sorcery. Let the celebrations begin!"

The king held out his arms to his people, inviting them to share in his joy.

"Is he serious?" Merlin whispered.

"Quite," I whispered back.

Then came a wail from a woman standing across from us. The people parted to reveal an elderly woman, clearly distraught with the death of Thomas.

I saw Uther stop in his tracks, puzzled by this sudden outcry.

"There is only evil in this land! And it is not magic!" she accused, glaring up at the king. "It is you, with your hatred and your ignorance!"

I frowned at the spectacle. This wasn't a typical response when parents dealt with their child being executed.

I looked to Merlin, a solemn expression his once cheerful face.

"You took my son!" the woman wailed. She took a deep breath, hatred lacing her words. "And I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you shall share my tears. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son!"

"Seize her!" commanded Uther.

The guards rushed forwards, but the woman muttered something under her breath and clasped a pendant of sorts that was strung around her neck. Then a gust of wind began to blow and the woman was surrounded by clouds of dust. She slowly melted away into the wind, disappearing to who knows where.

Uther looked stunned, horrified that someone dare do magic and threaten his son, Prince Arthur. He swept away with a billow of his cloak and went back inside the castle.

Villagers began to disperse amongst the square, carrying on with their daily business.

Merlin was shocked at what had just taken place.

"I was trying to tell you that this happened every so often," I told him carefully. "I tried to speak up before, but I didn't have the chance. I apologize. Your first impression of Camelot was not an enjoyable one."

Merlin seemed distracted and waved it off nonchalantly. "Eh, if it happens, it happens."

I blinked several times, not knowing how to respond. I cleared my throat, adjusted my bow and quiver on my back, and grasped by bag of herbs tightly.

"Well, I've got to go inform the king of the bandits," I said. "See you around, Merlin."

"Thank you again for saving my life," he replied, nodding politely.

I nodded back and started up the steps to the castle. I did not look behind to see where Merlin had gone. Who could he possibly be attempting to discover up here in the citadel?

I shook it off and made my way to the throne room, then requested an audience with the king. It was likely that he would not refuse. I had known King Uther my whole life. As daughter of the court physician, he trusted me.

I smoothed down my light green dress and tan corset before the guards opened the double doors.

As I entered, I saw it was just King Uther, the prat Arthur, and a few knights.

"Ah, Mars!" the king greeted kindly.

I smiled and bowed slightly before him. "Good afternoon, sire."

"Gathering herbs for Gaius, I see," he said, grinning. "Any trouble out in the Darkling Forest?"

"Indeed, sire," I replied. "I came across a boy being chased by a couple of bandits. They threatened both of us, and out of desperation, I shot them. I could not tell which kingdom they were from, but there are now two corpses lying but ten minutes from the front gate of Camelot."

"I'm glad you were able to defend yourself, Mars," Uther said. He turned to Arthur. "Send the patrol out to collect the bodies. Maybe we can find some symbol or crest."

The prince nodded. "Yes, sire."

"Thank you, Mars. Now, you go give Gaius those herbs. Wouldn't want anyone else to get sick, now would we?" the king smiled.

"Of course not, sire," I said, bowing again. "Thank you."

I saw Arthur roll his eyes at me, but I just smirked and exited the throne room. Such a typical interaction between the prince and I.

I made my way down to my home, the physician's quarters.

I heard my father's voice shouting. I scrunched my eyebrows together. He had never raised his voice like that before, even at me when I broke something or let a potion bottle slip through my fingers.

I stopped and listened at the door.

"I should say thank you," I heard my father say.

Who on earth was he talking to?

I entered hastily. "Father, who are you speaking to?"

"Oh, Mars, you've got the herbs. What took you so long?" he asked, taking the sack from me and examining its contents.

I sighed as I took off my bow and sheath, then set them down by the door.

"There were bandits, then a beheading, and I met some boy looking for—"

"Gaius, there are ladies dresses in the wardrobe! Wait, are these breeches? Why are those in here?" a voice echoed from my room.

I recognized the voice, but I couldn't place just why.

"Oh, Mars, this is—" my father began.

Then from my room, a person emerged, their face quite familiar. My eyes widened at the sight.

"Merlin?!" I declared. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same question," he said thoughtfully. "Why are you here?"

I crossed my arms and scoffed. "This is my home and my _father."_

Merlin's eyebrows rose, his eyes flickering from me to Gaius in surprise.

My father turned to me and said, unbelieving, "You know each other?"

"I shot the bandits that threatened his life," I told him. "Then he walked with me up to the town square. He said he was looking for someone. I had no idea it was you."

"Well this is splendid news," my father said, upbeat. "Since Merlin will be staying here—"

"Staying here?" I repeat. "You mean to say…?"

My father nodded. "Yes, he will be living with us. You'll have to share your room."

My jaw dropped. "Is even appropriate?"

"We can put up a sheet between your sides. You will have some privacy, Mars," father told me calmly.

But at this point, I was furious. How dare Merlin barge in here and take away my life, my father, my home! He does not belong here in Camelot, and I could tell. The look on his face when he simply entered the city was of wonder and awe. Camelot does not deserve such honor that he practically drools he's so excited to be here!

I know for sure my eyes flashed gold for a moment, as father's jar of quills tipped over, quills spilling out all over his desk. I hoped that neither of them had seen what I had just done. Panic rippled through me like a waterfall when father spotted it. Instead, he merely saw it and set it back up as if nothing had happened.

When I was very small, father told me that magic was a part of my soul. He warned me that using this magic could be very dangerous, so I've suppressed it. Sometimes when my emotions take hold of me, my grasp on it falters. It's very rare, but it does happen and I must trod lightly if somebody is a witness. Sometimes I forgot that I possessed such powers so that when it did happen, it was a surprise to me as well.

"Besides," continued father, "he can assist you in gathering herbs and doing your evening potion route and such."

Merlin tried to smile at me, but I kept my expression neutral. Instead of slicing his head off with my sword that was sitting in the corner of the room, I picked up my drawstring bag and started gathering the droughts for the potion route.

"I don't need help with those tasks," I protested. "I'm perfectly capable of doing them on my own."

I stood tall and whirled around to the door.

"Mars, where are you going? Supper will be ready very soon," father called after me, puzzled.

"Potion route," I shot back. "I'll be back soon enough."

My dark auburn hair glided behind me like a flag as I strode down the hall and the steps, entering the king's part of the castle.

_The nerve of that Merlin, _I thought angrily. _Pushing his way into my life without my consent, father suggesting that I need help with my duties…_

I genuinely hoped that one of those days he'd end up in the stocks so I could throw fruit and vegetables at him. The satisfaction I would get from smashing a tomato in that annoying face of his would be hilarious!

I'm so lost in thought that I collided with someone else rounding the corner—Gwen.

Gwen was my oldest and dearest friend. We'd played together as children and learned how to wield a sword together. Her father was like an uncle to me, and she a sister.

I realized that I had knocked the laundry she was carrying right out of her hands, clothing spilling out from the basket.

"My apologies, Gwen," I said woefully.

I bent over to shove the laundry back into the basket.

"It's alright, Mars," she said. "I heard you were attacked by bandits today. Are you alright?"

"I've been better, but thank you," I sighed, handing the basket back to her.

Gwen gave me a knowing look. "Something's wrong, isn't it? What happened?"

"My home has been invaded," I grouched. "By a pest."

Gwen cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "A pest, hm? And just who is this pest?"

Gwen knew me way too well.

"He's new in town. Name's Merlin," I said. I relayed everything that had happened so far. She seemed interested, as her stance never changed, nor her grasp on the basket.

At the end of the tale, Gwen simply laughed.

"Why on earth is this funny?" I asked, confused.

"Mars, lighten up," she giggled, putting a hand on my arm. "I'm sure you'll come to like Merlin. I understand that you're frustrated, but protesting isn't going to get you anywhere."

"You're right," I admitted. "Maybe I should give him some time."

"Exactly," Gwen grinned. "I would love to talk more, but I've got to get Morgana's laundry started. There's a feast tonight and she wants to wear this gown."

"Sure," I said, moving out of her way. "Will you come by for lunch tomorrow? I think I've got some new footwork to show you."

"Definitely. I'll see you later!" she agreed, scurrying off down the hall, shoes clicking on the gray stone floor.

I continued on to Lady Morgana's room, digging through my drawstring bag for her sleeping draft.

The castle was bustling with activity. The celebrations were to start in a few hours and the other servants were like bees-buzzing as quickly as they could to their destinations. It was a familiar sight. I grew up roaming these halls. I easily found my way.

I knocked softly on Morgana's door, hearing a muffled response. I entered and Morgana spun on her heel. At the sight of me, she beamed.

"Mars," she greeted kindly. "Are you well?"

I smiled back. "I am."

She walked forward and embraced me, then let me go, her expression troubled. "I'm glad. I heard the king talk about bandits and mentioned your name. Are you injured?"

I shake my head, grateful. "No, I'm fine. Had to kill the men, but otherwise, I'm great."

"Good. Well, not for the men," she giggled.

I laughed. "No, not for them."

"Arthur said you rescued some poor boy as well," Morgana said. "Very chivalrous of you."

There was a twinkle in her eye, the tone of her voice letting me know that she was teasing me.

"One step closer to becoming a knight, I suppose," I said. I handed her the potion bottle. "Your sleeping draft from Gaius. I thought I'd deliver it now, before the feast. I'm sure you'll be up late."

"Thank you," she said. She hesitantly opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. Morgana walked over to the window, distressed. She looked back at me, solemn and worried.

"I don't think I'll be going to the feast," she confirmed.

"Why ever not?" I wondered.

Morgana's green eyes shifted to the square.

_She thought it was wrong to execute that man, _I thought.

"Oh," I understood.

"I saw you out there, watching. Who was with you?"

"A boy named Merlin. He's new to Camelot," I explained. "He's the one I rescued."

"Is he unharmed?"

"Yes, I believe so. His buoyant attitude certainly wasn't."

"You sound tense."

I chuckled darkly. "You can say that again."

Morgana turned completely and rested against the windowsill. She scrunched her nose in wonder. "Did he get on your bad side?"

"You could say that," I replied. "He got on my last nerve. He told me he was searching for someone in town, didn't say who, though. Turns out it was my father."

"He was looking for Gaius?"

"Now he's under my father's care. I have to share my room with him," I said, trying not to become overly irritated. "Gwen told me to lighten up about it all."

Morgana smirked. "Gwen is right. I understand your impatience for Merlin and his new residence in your quarters, but if you need anyone to talk to, you know I'm here."

I'd been confiding in Morgana for a number of years at that point. She and I had become close friends ever since she came to Camelot as a child. She had no knowledge of my struggle with magic, but everything else that had happened to me she was aware of. What became of us was tragic. It was like losing family when our friendship crumbled.

"I'll leave you be," I told her. "I have more droughts to deliver before the celebrations begin." I began to walk towards the door.

"Have a good night, Mars," she called after me.

"You, too, Morgana," I called back.

And as I continued in my route that late afternoon, I let my mind ease on the subject of Merlin. Perhaps he was not as irritating as I originally thought. Perhaps he would be like a brother to me someday.

But the winter of my seventeenth year was to bring many revelations, ones that people now believe as legend. But that's just what I am now, as is my story; a legend.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Please remember to follow, favorite, and review! Let me know what you think of Mars in the reviews! I'd like feedback! :) I won't be able to update this very often, so I'll try to make the chapters as long as possible.**


	3. Babysitting

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* * *

Chapter 2: Babysitting

* * *

That next morning, I woke the sound of rustling from the other side of the curtain that divided my room into two.

I mentally groaned. Merlin. I completely forgot that the dollop-head was living here now. I could only imagine what mischief he would get himself into that day.

I got up and rifled through my sparse selection of clothes, throwing on one of my only dresses, a light blue one with a light blue corset and white apron. Servant's clothing, because that's what I was—a servant.

I brushed the tangles out of my auburn hair the best I could and put it up in my usual braid. I heard Merlin leave the room, forgetting to shut the door behind him, the clotpole.

"I got you water," I heard my father tell the boy, "You didn't wash last night."

"Sorry," Merlin apologized.

"Help yourself to breakfast. Mars! Mars, are you up yet?"

"I'm here, father," I called back.

I was not ready to face the day. Merlin was still in my home, eating my food, sleeping in what should be _my _room and _my _room only. Sure, he seemed kind enough, but I was used to a very specific lifestyle, just me and father making our own way in this world called Camelot. Maybe I was afraid of this startling new change, but either way, I still got annoyed with him very easily.

I shoved the cloth curtain aside and started down the first few steps when my father's actions caught my eye. He shuffled over to the bucket of water by Merlin's arm on the table. I squinted, puzzled, as he lightly pushed the water over the edge.

In a flash, I saw Merlin's eyes turn gold and the bucket of water stopped its descent in midair.

I gasped as Merlin and my father glanced to me, then back at each other.

Merlin let the bucket drop, water spilling all over our floor.

My mind was racing. There was someone else in this world that grappled with the same things I did. I had been suppressing my inner magic for years on end. How on earth had he just let it go like it was nothing at all? He let himself use this magic.

I felt frustration take over me as the warlock and my father exchanged furtive looks. It was clear that my father knew about this boy's abilities and didn't tell me.

"How did you do that?" I demanded, flying down the rest of the staircase and coming to a halt next to my father.

"Did you incant a spell in your mind?" father wondered.

Merlin just shook his head. "I don't know any spells."

"So what did you do? There must be something," prompted father.

"It just happens," said Merlin quietly.

My violet eyes widened in disbelief. Someone else could do what I could. This was a relief, yet such a burden at the same time.

Merlin sighed and got out the mop, cleaning up the water that he had let fall.

"Well, then we'd better keep you out of trouble," father told him. "You can help me and Mars out until I find some paid work for you. Here—,"

Father held out a few potion bottles to him. "—hollyhawk and fever view for Lady Percival, and this is for Sir Olwin. He's as blind as a weevil, so warn him not to take it all at once."

"Father," I interrupt. "That's my job you're giving him. What am I to do?"

"Mars, I need you to go into the town and deliver more remedies. Also, little Juliana Hevenswood is feeling ill. I was hoping you could do a quick diagnosis."

I sighed. At least I got a few things that were my own.

"Sure," I replied, glancing once at Merlin. He gave me a half smile and leaned the mop against the table.

My expression remained solemn as he looked away.

"And here," father offered, holding up his own breakfast of bread and meat.

I gave my father a remorseful expression at this. He simply grinned back as Merlin thanked him and left.

I stood beside father's workbench, my arms crossed indignantly.

"Don't you look at me like that, Marsella," he scolded, wagging a finger at me. "I know you don't trust the boy, but he has a good heart. He's going to need some looking after that I am simply not capable of. I am asking you to make sure he doesn't get into any mischief."

My eyebrows rose rapidly at this. "You're joking."

Father turned and gave me the same look. "But I'm not."

I let my arms drop and my mouth gape for a moment. "You can't be! Father, I am not going to babysit a boy who is my age, maybe older! He's perfectly clever enough to look after himself."

"Mars, he's not from Camelot and he's got those powers. I'm worried he might use them in public by accident; and I have no desire to see him up on that platform with the executioner standing by," said father sternly. "Now please come eat your breakfast and be on your way."

"Yes, father," I groaned, slumping into my usual spot at the table.

"What was that, young lady?"

"Sorry," I said, putting on a much more cheerful voice, "yes, father."

"Thank you," he said, satisfied, as he brought me my bread and cheese.

After eating breakfast, I collected everything that I would need and set off into the main town, a hunting knife hidden in my basket for self-defense purposes.

Father didn't always approve of my knife, but once, when I was heading back through town in the dark, a man attempted to kidnap me and I fought him off with my knife. He has no problem with it now. Even the king approves. He may not be one to encourage women fighting, but he does believe in protection. He even offered up a personal bodyguard for me when I go out of the city walls, but I kindly declined. Father had been teaching me archery and sword-fighting since I was small. And when father had taught me all he knew, Gwen took his place as my teacher.

As I passed through the palace gateway, I was surprised (yet not surprised at all) to see Merlin in a tussle with Arthur, the prince. I rolled my eyes. Of course he would offend the prince. And now I have to save him…again…

"Oi! Merlin!" I yelled.

Arthur smirked as I approached. "Ah, Mars. Lovely to see you."

"Stop with the act, Arthur, you don't have to put on a false air for me or for this nitwit," I deadpanned, nodding my head in Merlin's direction.

"Hey!" Merlin protested.

"It's not a false air, _Marsella. _I am merely teaching Merlin here how to respect –," said Arthur, jabbing a finger into Merlin's chest.

"Just leave him alone, will you?" I said. I tugged on Merlin's sleeve and began to pull him away. "Come on, Merlin, let's go. We've got potions to deliver."

Merlin frowned, then yanked his arm back to his side.

"No," he refused. "Quit acting like my pesky older sister!"

"My father asked me to look after you," I told him angrily. "Now come on, before Arthur explodes from his ego inflating too much."

"Hey! You can't just walk away like that, Merlin! Would you like me to teach you to walk on your knees? That would be all too simple," Arthur prodded.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Merlin warned.

"Why? What are you going to do to me?"

"Merlin…" I growled between gritted teeth.

If he exposed himself, we'd have died! Father and I, because we harbored a sorcerer, and Merlin because of his magic. How stupid can you be?

Merlin ignored me and continued his threats. "You have no idea."

Arthur merely laughed at the thought of the scrawny, bow-legged boy in front of him giving him a thrashing.

I have to admit, it would have been hilarious, but I didn't have time for that. Father gave me an initiative to protect Merlin in Camelot and so far, I wasn't doing well at all.

"Be my guest!" chuckled the prince. "Come on, come on! _Come on!"_

Merlin suddenly swung a clenched fist at Arthur's face, which made me gasp. The young prince pinned the magician's arm behind his back, frustrated and almost thrilled about the quick defeat.

"I'll have you thrown in jail for that," Arthur said.

"Who do you think you are? The king?" Merlin demanded.

"No, I'm his son, Arthur," Arthur told him harshly, bending Merlin's arm even further backwards so that he fell to his knees.

"Merlin, you numpty!" I groaned. But he didn't hear me.

"You're seriously tossing me in the dungeons for swinging my fist over your head?" Merlin grumped.

"Yes, I am, because you're a dimwit," Arthur spat. "Guards!"

"Why didn't you just come with me?" I asked of Merlin angrily. "I told you he was trouble."

"You should have told me he was the prince!" the boy exclaimed as the guards ushered him away.

I groaned as the knights took him off to a cell below the castle. I turned to Arthur, who looked on in glee.

"You just had to egg him on, didn't you?"

Arthur scoffed as he picked up his sword. "He was asking for it. Don't tell me he's not irritating to you."

I nodded. "Well, of course he is, but that doesn't mean you need to stick him in prison!"

"He was out of line, Marsella. Someone had to teach him a lesson. Just be glad it was me," he said, walking away.

"It's Mars!" I shouted after him.

I wondered what my father would do after the whole shenanigan. How he reacted was not something I enjoyed experiencing.

* * *

"He did WHAT?!" father shouted.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop him," I told him, genuine about it all. "He was just so forward with Arthur and wouldn't let me warm him about what would happen if he did try anything! I told him to stop, I really did. I believe I got too angry with him."

I did actually feel terrible for getting so irritated with Merlin. He was only doing what he thought was right, but so was I.

Father sighed and slumped down onto a bench in our workshop at home. He put his head in his hands and sighed deeply.

"Will we have to wait until morning to retrieve him?" I wondered.

"It is very likely," Father replied. "But it is I who shall seek an audience with Uther, not you. You are much too involved with the situation. Run along and do what I've asked. Juliana is not going to get any better if you are worrying about Merlin."

"I'm not worried," I said quickly. "I just don't like seeing him in any trouble."

Father raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. "Are you sure?"

I could feel my face growing red. "Yes, I am quite sure! If you were constantly saving somebody's backside for two days straight, you'd get tired of seeing them in trouble, too."

"Oh, Mars, you make it too easy!" laughed Father.

I managed a small smile. "Very funny, father. I'm off now."

"Alright. Tell me how it all goes."

"I will."

* * *

The next morning, father and I head to the dungeons where Merlin is being kept. I hold the end of my dark blue dress above the smelly straw floor as we descend into darkness.

The guards unlocked a cell down at the end of a row. The door creaked as the heavy metal swung open to reveal the young boy crouched on the floor. What did he think he was doing?

"Merlin!" my father declared.

Merlin stood happily, a grin on his face. He caught my eye and I merely raised by eyebrows at him, waiting for father's outburst.

"You never cease to amaze me!" he shouted, Merlin hanging his head in shame. "The one thing that someone like you should do is keep your head down, and what do you do?! _You _behave like an idiot!"

"I'm sorry," Merlin apologized.

"You're lucky. I managed to pull a few strings to get you released," father told him.

Merlin's face grew into a huge smile, obviously grateful. "Oh, thank you, thank you! I won't forget this."

"Well, there is a small price to pay," I told him. "You may not like it, but you'll have to go through with it."

"What is it?" Merlin inquired, eyebrows scrunched together.

I cast a glance at father and we turned back to face the boy, amused with what he was about to endure.

"You'll see when we get there," father said, pressing back a grin.

Merlin picked up his scarf and murmured, "I don't like the sound of that."

* * *

I laughed as I observed Merlin's punishment from afar. The children throwing the rotten fruit and vegetables received so much joy from doing so. Merlin was the perfect subject for this sort of thing. He would make funny but strange noises any time he got hit in the eyes or the mouth with any kind of tomato, which made the throwers favor them even more.

"You're enjoying this way too much, you know," said father behind me.

I turned, nodding. "I shouldn't, but I am."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he levitated a bucket of water over your bed while you slept and emptied it all over your face!"

"He wouldn't do that."

"Are you quite sure?" teased father.

I shuffled, nervously considering that he might just do that. I played it off as if those were not my thoughts. "Of course I'm sure."

Then, another sight caught my eye. Gwen. What was she doing speaking to Merlin?

"Oh, lord, no," I muttered.

"What is it now?" chuckled father.

"Gwen's talking to Merlin."

"Oh. Probably just introducing herself."

I raised my eyebrows. "That's the problem."

As the village children arrived with more rotten fruit and veg, Gwen scurried out of the way and over to me.

"See you've met the clotpole," I greeted.

Gwen's eyes widened and she crossed her arms while father laughed. "Mars! For goodness sake…"

"What?" I told her innocently. "It's true! To think that you can just go up to somebody and pick a fight like that."

"I distinctly remember pulling you out of fights like that when you were smaller," Gwen replied tartly. "You certainly didn't care whether or not they were royal or not."

I rolled my eyes. "That was one time! And Arthur was asking for it. He stole my only good wooden sword and he knew it was the best because your father made it for me!"

Gwen and father just smirked as I sighed and continued watching as Merlin was pelted with food.

* * *

We sat down for lunch that midday, Merlin freshly cleaned from his debacle in the stocks.

"Do you want some vegetables with that?" joked father.

I grinned as Merlin scoffed. "I know you're both still angry with me."

"Your mother asked me to look after you," father said.

"Yet it was me that you told to babysit," I murmured, stirring my soup.

Merlin held back a smile as father shot me a warning look.

"Sorry," I said quickly.

"To answer you, yes," Merlin told father.

"What did your mother say to you about your gifts?" father wondered.

"That I was special."

Father nodded. "You _are_ special. The likes of which I've never seen before."

I paused mid-bite. That was a lie. A dead-on lie. Unless he'd just forgotten. But how could he? Had he really lost the memories?

"What do you mean?" Merlin questioned.

"Well," father started, "magic requires incantations, spells; it takes years to study. What I saw you do was…elemental, instinctive."

"What's the point if it can't be used?"

I froze again and stared down into my soup bowl. He was right. What was the point of having powers like that if they couldn't be used? For some reason, that resonated with me. I had been suppressing something powerful for years on my father's orders. Why was Merlin allowed to use this magic and I wasn't?

"That I do not know," said father. "You are a question that has never been posed before, Merlin."

"Did you ever study magic?" the boy questioned.

I nodded. "He did."

"Uther banned all such work twenty years ago," he replied, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Why?" asked Merlin.

"People used magic at the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy it all from back then. Even the dragons," explained father.

"All of them?"

"All but one," I answered quickly. "Uther decided not to kill one. He wanted to keep it as an example of the old ways. He hid it deep in a cave beneath the castle where nobody will ever find it, nor free it. It's a bit sad, actually."

"How do you know that?" Merlin asked.

"Father used to tell me bedtime stories of the dragons when I was a little girl," I told him. "It's said that the last dragon is the keeper of an ancient prophecy about a witch and a warlock and that he won't be found in the caves until the prophecy is coming true."

Father cleared his throat. "Eat up. When you're both finished, I need you to take a preparation to Lady Helen. She needs it for her voice. And yes, I mean both of you, as in teamwork."

He settled his gaze on me, expecting me to protest.

"What? I haven't objected yet," I told him defensively.

"I was skipping past your objecting and getting straight to the point, Mars. Now hurry and eat, if you please. I'm tired of your complaining."

"I haven't even complained yet!"

"Like I said, skipping past the retaliation."

_And he wonders where I get it from, _I thought, sighing.

* * *

Merlin and I said almost nothing to each other as we started off to Lady Helen's room.

"Who is this Lady Helen?" Merlin asked as we made our way up a staircase near the entrance of the castle.

"She's a singer long admired by King Uther. She travels here per annum to sing in the festival. The court always gets in a flurry whenever she comes along," I explained. "She is usually quite friendly with the servants here. I've never had a rude word from her."

"So she's pleasant?"

"Much more so that other nobles who step these halls daily," I replied, scoffing slightly.

"And you're speaking of Prince Arthur."

"Naturally."

"And you think him a prat, too?"

I chuckled slightly and nodded, agreeing. "Most wholeheartedly, Merlin. You have no idea."

"Mm, I have some idea," he joked, chuckling slightly as he referred to his quick stunt in the royal dungeons.

"This way," I told him, leading him down another hall.

For a moment, I was okay with Merlin. We were closer to being on the same page. He thought Arthur was a prat, _I _thought Arthur was a prat. It was a nice bonding moment for the both of us.

We were silent again as we passed the stained-glass windows and open ballroom below the railing.

We entered Lady Helen's chambers quietly and Merlin placed the vial down on the vanity table. I frowned as I observed the piece of cloth covering the mirror.

"Is this a voodoo doll?" Merlin inquired quietly.

I looked down to see figure made of straw in Merlin's hand. He passed it to me and I inspected it thoroughly.

"I'm not sure," I responded.

"And look at this!" he exclaimed, moving several other books off to one side. Below them was another book, a leather cord with several charms and a small key wrapped around the binding.

"It seems to be…a spell book of sorts," I said, puzzled.

Then we heard a banging noise. The doors to the chambers!

I threw down the straw doll as Merlin quickly placed the other things back over the mysterious spell book.

"Lady Helen," I greeted, curtseying slightly. I noticed Merlin standing there in shock and rolled my eyes. I tugged on his sleeve and he bowed.

Instead of recognizing me, as she usually did, Lady Helen stared at us suspiciously. She glanced at the bottle in my hand, then at my face, then at Merlin. Her eyes flickered over to her vanity table.

"What are you two doing in here?" she demanded.

"I-um…we were just…" Merlin stammered.

"Lady Helen, it's me, Marsella. Do you remember me? I'm the court physician's daughter. We brought you the preparation for your voice, just as always," I interrupted.

I reached over to grab the bottle of potion and, just for a second, my gaze went up to look in the part of the mirror that wasn't covered. And instead of seeing youthful Lady Helen, I saw an old, frail woman.

I kept my reaction minimal, merely sniffing loudly to cover my small gasp of surprise. Merlin's jaw clenched. I could tell he had seen it, too.

Who was this woman and why wasn't her reflection Lady Helen's?

* * *

**Hi everybody! Sorry about not updating in so long! I've been super, super busy!**

**I hope you're not finding Mars too annoying, but if you are, then trust me –she'll, be changing, maturing, and growing, just like Arthur and Merlin do in the show! I want to let her character mature like a real person does. Keep in mind that she's just seventeen, like Merlin, and is still very much a headstrong teenage girl! :) I hope you're not finding her too Mary-Sueish and such.**

**Thanks so much for reading! I hope update again sometime soon.**


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